


see you sweat

by nervousbakedown



Category: Pod Save America (RPF)
Genre: M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-12
Updated: 2018-04-12
Packaged: 2019-04-22 02:46:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14299095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nervousbakedown/pseuds/nervousbakedown
Summary: Jon sighs, “Honestly, I just wish I could take my shirt off.”Tommy purses his lips, feels his face flush. Luckily, his face is already red from the oppressive heat in the office; he’s not being given away. “I thought we learned our lesson about doing that.”





	see you sweat

Jon sits up in his chair and, for the fourth time in as many hours, announces, “Fuck, it’s so hot.”

He holds his t-shirt between two fingers, lifting it off his chest in an attempt to fan himself. He looks down and grimaces at how sweaty he is, how much his shirt is clinging to him.

“Yeah man,” Tommy says from his desk, diagonal from Jon. “I’m well aware.”

“I’m seriously debating putting my head in the fridge,” Jon deadpans. He gives up on his t-shirt and instead starts fanning himself with the day’s copy of the New York _Times_.

Meanwhile, Tommy is typing out an email with the owners of the building to see if they need to call an electrician or what to get the air conditioning fixed. “Can’t. Elijah and Travis are currently doing that.”

“Seriously?” Jon asks, eyebrows raising, nose scrunching up. “Ugh.”

Tommy hits send on his email and looks up from his phone. He can’t help but snort at Jon. “You’re being very dramatic.”

“Ugh, this is so bad,” Jon says, looking down at how sweaty he is. He looks like he just got in from a run. 

Tommy’s blue shirt looks similar, wet around the collar, the middle of his chest and his underarms. Tommy has tried not to think about it, to just get through the day, but it _is_ becoming uncomfortable, clinging and sticking to him. 

“Yeah, I feel ya,” Tommy replies.

Jon sighs, “Honestly, I just wish I could take my shirt off.”

Tommy purses his lips, feels his face flush. Luckily, his face is already red from the oppressive heat in the office; he’s not being given away. “I thought we learned our lesson about doing that.”

Recognizing Tommy’s reference to their infamous shirtless flip cup incident, Jon slinks back in his chair and laughs. “Obviously I’m not going to do it.”

Tommy smiles, shrugs, contemplates it. Some things never change, but some things certainly have. “I mean, I don’t think we have to worry about covert DC press photographers in this office.”

“True, we might be okay,” Jon laughs under his breath and looks at Tommy through his lashes. 

After the livestream earlier, they sent everyone home, thinking it unfair to make everyone work in the heat. Only Elijah and Travis stuck around, dead set on editing video. Last time Tommy checked on them, though, they were taking turns putting their heads in the fridge. Lovett’s not around to witness this emergency either; he’s in NYC visiting Ronan.

Tommy looks around at the empty desks. Technically, he and Jon could leave too, but as two of the names on the company masthead and the lease, they need to be around for the fixing of the air conditioning...whenever this lady emails Tommy back.

Jon is scrolling through his phone, one elbow on his desk. Tommy notices the sheen of sweat on his neck, on his collarbone where his t-shirt is stretched out.

Having convinced himself, Tommy decides to do it — he gets up from his chair, reaches up and grabs his own shirt by the back of the neck. 

Jon notices before Tommy gets it over his head. He looks up at Tommy, brown eyes going wide. Tommy pulls his shirt up, the dampness of it dragging against his skin and mussing up his hair. Once his shirt is off, Tommy shakes it out, sees for himself the full scope of how drenched with sweat it is.

“Ugh, gross,” he says. He tosses it on his desk. Tommy looks at Jon again, who’s smiling yet still staring at Tommy with curious big eyes. 

“Yeah,” Jon says softly. 

Tommy puts his hands on his hips and narrows his eyes at Jon. “Aren’t you gonna do it? Don’t leave me all alone.”

Jon exhales a breath — Tommy doesn’t know if he meant it to be as heavy as it is, but he sounds like he got the wind knocked out of him. Jon lets his eyes travel up Tommy’s chest before he stands up. 

He doesn’t take his shirt off in the same way Tommy did. Jon crosses his arms and grips the bottom hem, lifts it up and off that way, his arms uncrossing in the air. Jon doesn’t pay attention to where he drops his t-shirt onto the floor, too busy looking at Tommy. 

“Nice,” Tommy says. It’s his turn to look Jon up and down now. His skin is so tan and smooth, no freckles like Tommy has. 

His eyes locked on Jon’s, Tommy steps forward and rounds the corner to where Jon’s standing behind his desk. Jon steps backward and leans against on the edge of the desk, as if to allow Tommy more space, but Tommy immediately steps closer.

“Tommy?” Jon asks, hands gripping the edge of the desk.

“Hmm?” Tommy hums. He reaches out with two fingers and tentatively touches Jon’s stomach, pressing down slightly, feeling how hot his skin is. 

“D-do you feel better?”

Tommy’s eyes are downcast as he smirks, lets out a breath.

“A little,” Tommy says. He pauses so he can place his palm flat against Jon’s chest and start dragging it upward. He looks up, meets Jon’s eyes again. “It’s still so hot in here.”

Jon bites his lip. Tommy’s right — it’s still hot, even hotter with the pressure of Tommy’s hand against his chest. Tommy’s hand stops to rest at Jon’s pectoral. Before Jon can even think of what Tommy’s going to do next, he brings his other hand up, feels his way up Jon’s chest with both hands this time. Tommy’s hands are heavy and send a shiver up his spine despite the heat. Jon bites down on his bottom lip even harder to stop himself from moaning. 

Jon does end up making a slight, cut-off _mmm_ , after which Tommy steps closer to him, nudging one leg in-between his. 

“Tommy,” Jon murmurs, voice just above a whisper. He looks down and watches as Tommy presses his crotch against his, khakis against denim. 

“Yeah?” Tommy firmly puts his hands on Jon’s hips. 

“You said Travis and Elijah are still here.”

“They’re probably busy stuffing ice down their pants,” Tommy jokes, voice low and mumbly. “It’s just us out here.”

Jon sighs and laughs under his breath. He already feels a little lightheaded from the heat, but he definitely feels even more lightheaded from Tommy’s confidence, the way he’s looking down at him. Tommy only has 2 inches on him in height, yet he’s much bigger than Jon is, those early mornings at the gym definitely paying off.

Jon gazes at Tommy’s chest again now that he’s closer — he sees the sweat, the freckles dotting his pale skin, the well-defined muscles of his lower abdomen and hips. Jon reaches out and touches Tommy’s chest, just like Tommy did with him. He moves his hands up, makes sure to run his index fingers over Tommy’s nipples before smoothing them over his pecs. 

At the same time Jon moves his hands up to feel Tommy’s shoulders, Tommy reaches up and brackets Jon’s face with one sturdy hand, right along his jawline. Tommy leans in close and Jon mirrors him, tilting his head and parting his lips. Jon can feel Tommy’s breath on his lips.

“So hot,” Jon whispers against Tommy’s mouth.

Tommy kisses him, his hand holding Jon’s face right where he wants it. He slides his tongue into Jon’s mouth, slides it against Jon’s tongue way slower than Jon would prefer. Jon moves his hands up to the sweaty nape of Tommy’s neck, threads his fingers in his hair in an attempt to pull him in more. He’s suddenly so desperate.

Tommy can tell he’s desperate. Tommy moans into Jon’s mouth, slides his tongue deeper and moves his hands downward. Tommy grips Jon’s ass through his jeans, pulling him even closer. Tommy presses his hips forward and moans when his cock drags against jon’s, both of them almost fully hard already. 

Jon has his hands on Tommy’s chest again when Tommy pulls away. Tommy stays close enough that Jon can feel his breath, can still moan into his mouth. “You wanna?”

“Mmm,” Jon nods, and not even a second later Tommy brings his hands around to undo his belt. Tommy looks into Jon’s eyes for a moment before he leans forward and kisses him again. He starts undoing Jon’s pants by feel, leading Jon to reach out and do the same.

Tommy gets Jon’s cock out first, tugging his jeans down a few inches and sliding his left hand past the soft grey fabric of his underwear. Jon moans when Tommy wraps his hand around him, moans again a second later when he uses his other hand to push his briefs down. It’s so hot in the room Jon doesn’t notice a change in temperature between being exposed and not. Jon hurries up and does the same for Tommy, shoving his skinny khakis and snug underwear aside to free his cock. 

Tommy moans when Jon grips his cock in his hand with his slender fingers, breaking their kiss. Tommy grits his teeth as he tries to not be too loud. Jon parts his lips and moans, too. From there, they stroke each other in tandem, wrists twisting, each adjusting based on what makes the other moan. They stay pressed up close to one another, foreheads touching but not kissing for awhile. 

“Fuck,” Tommy murmurs, breath hot against Jon’s mouth. “Fuck, just like that.”

Jon can’t help but jerk his hips forward a bit, into Tommy’s touch. Neither of them have used any lube or spit into their hands, but the grip isn’t bad due to how sweaty they are. Jon finds he likes it, likes how Tommy’s rough hand feels on him. He closes his eyes, focuses on Tommy’s cock in his own hand. He wants nothing more than for this to be just as good for him. 

Jon swipes his thumb over the head of Tommy’s cock, smearing the precome that’s gathered there. Jon doesn’t expect for Tommy to do the same to him a literal second later. It makes Jon curse under his breath, bite his lip. “Shit, Tommy.”

“Mmm, yes,” Tommy replies. He jerks his hips forward now, close enough to Jon their arms are threatening to become tangled. Tommy tilts his head just a bit and kisses Jon, slick and open-mouthed. Both of them pick up their pace, stroke each other faster, feeling that unmistakable heat building in the pits of their stomachs. 

“God,” Jon disconnects from Tommy’s lips just enough so he can moan. 

“Fuck, Jon,” Tommy says, voice low and rough, “You’re gonna make me come.”

Jon groans, leans into Tommy some more, their noses brushing. Their movements have quickly become erratic, both of them overcome by the heat between them, the tingling in their toes. 

“Yes,” Jon sucks in a breath through his teeth. “Make me come, Tommy, please.”

Tommy ends up coming first, but only by a second, his hand speeding up on Jon’s dick while he moans from deep in his throat. Jon comes a moment later, his hips pushing forward into Tommy’s firm grip. Jon moans as he lets his gaze travel down, watches as Tommy finishes, his chest and Jon’s fingers striped with white.

It takes awhile for them to stop, let their movements taper off. They let go of the other’s cock in favor of wrapping their arms around each other. They kiss some more, not minding the mess between them, not minding the sweat either. Jon pulls back after a while, only because he knows the best way to get rid of the come on his fingers. He brings his fingers up to Tommy’s lips, moans softly to himself when Tommy takes them into his mouth and swirls his tongue around them to lick them clean. Jon doesn’t think Tommy has ever been hotter, with his striking steel blue eyes staring into him, his sweaty blonde hair on his forehead.

Once the fog of arousal subsides, the two remember where they are. Jon ducks his head and laughs nervously; they both separate and do their pants back up. Tommy walks over to the corner between his and Jon’s desks and retrieves Jon’s t-shirt from the floor, tosses it to Jon. Jon puts his shirt back on, feeling disgusted at how damp it is and how it feels to put it back on now that he’s even sweatier and has come on his chest.

Tommy puts his shirt back on as well, standing back behind his own desk. Jon crosses the distance between them, wraps his arms around Tommy’s shoulders and kisses him. He pulls away when he hears clamoring footsteps in the office space. Both Jon and Tommy turn around and see Elijah and Travis go to their desks and collect their things.

“We’re headed out,” Elijah says, glancing over at Jon and Tommy but not paying them any mind. Travis does the same, points at them as he and Elijah walk out. “You better get this fixed by tomorrow. I’m sick of Elijah sticking ice down my shirt.”

Tommy gives Jon a knowing look. “Yeah, we’re trying.”

Once they’re gone, Jon and Tommy laugh, still facing each other. Tommy puts his broad hands at Jon’s lower back, and Jon loops his arms around Tommy’s neck.

“You wanna come over to my place?” Jon murmurs, blinking up at Tommy. “I think I know some ways we can cool down.”


End file.
